


Cupid's Arrow

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cupid shooting arrows, Established Relationship, M/M, The Steter Network Monthly Prompts, but Scoot is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22947289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: Allison brings an injured Cupid to Stiles.  That leads to acknowledging his relationship with Peter and maybe it should move to the next logical step.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 39
Kudos: 582
Collections: The Steter Network





	Cupid's Arrow

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! What is that, what did I do?”

Stiles circles the table, back in the kitchen where he grew up, looking at the small creature lying on it. It’s barely bigger than his hand, and there’s the tiny bow and quiver next to him, looking like they could fit a Barbie doll. “I’m not sure what that is, Allison. I’d say you shot it and my question is, why the hell did you bring it to me?”

She wipes her eyes and shudders out a breath. “You… you know about things, Stiles, everyone knows that! That thing, it was in the preserve and it was flying around and I saw it with a bow and arrow and I panicked and shot it. I wasn’t really trying to, it was an accident, it was just a reaction.”

“Why is there an Argent in your house and why is there a…” Peter dips his finger in the pool of gold fluid oozing out of the thing’s leg and then goes to the sink to rinse off his hand. “Why is there a fae with an arrow in its leg on your father’s kitchen table?”

“Oh, crap, it’s a fae?” Allison asks, stepping back from the creature, still unconscious on the laminate table. “Are they normally armed? It’s so tiny, why would it have a bow and arrow?”

“Oh hell, no. No, Peter, tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”

Peter shrugs and says, “What did you expect a Cupid would look like? Hopefully you weren’t expecting an actual baby angel or something. I would hope angels have something else to do.” He squats down to get a better look and says, “Big arrow, small fae. Hmm, it is still breathing, I can hear it.”

Alison gasps and moves closer to the table, hope lighting up her eyes. “Really? It’s… he’s breathing? Can you hear his heart?”

“Of course, girl, that goes with the breathing.” He can’t stop the sarcasm; he’s willing to accept Allison, but he’ll never like her. “Stiles, do you need, um…?” Peter asks, turning towards the younger man.

“Yeah, good idea, take me a second.” He quickly turns to the cabinet over the fridge and pulls down a thermal lunch box and takes a small glass jar out of it. There’s a small piece of white cloth waiting inside. “Not sure what this is for, but it’s gotta be good for something, right?” he says, carefully mopping up the bit of golden blood around the fae’s leg and dropping the cloth into the jar. He seals it and puts it safely on the floor behind him before turning back to Alison. “This is just a regular arrow, right? No wolfsbane or anything else weird like that?”

“Just plain, yes.” She looks around him at the box on the floor with an eyebrow raised. “And to answer an earlier question, that’s why I came to you. Deaton said you had a spark, and you know things. So I thought maybe you’d know what to do. I thought to heal him, but if there’s something you can use, sure.”

“Sure, and taking him to Deaton was out of the question, I guess.” Stiles nods at Peter and says, “I’ll hold him and you cut the arrow as cleanly as you can and then I guess I’ll pull it through. I’m sure it’s gonna hurt, but I don’t know what other option there is.”

Peter nods back and uses his thumb-claw to cut through the arrow, as close as possible to the cupid’s leg. “I’ll hold up his leg and you go ahead and –“

He doesn’t get to finish before Stiles has pulled the remaining piece of arrow through the tiny creature’s leg. After that, everything happens in a flash.

The creature lets out a shriek making them all cover their ears. It grabs his tiny bow and nocks in an arrow, and starts shooting them faster than they’ve ever seen, even faster than Allison. It continues screaming while flying around the room and it’s only lucky that Derek and Scott come in through the back door at the same time, letting the fairie fly out.

“What the hell was that?” Scott asks, rushing to Allison’s side. “Are you okay?”

Derek seems to know what it is and asks, “Did she get hit by an arrow? If not, she’s probably okay.” He pulls Peter towards him and commands, “Shut your eyes, Peter, don’t look at anyone. We’ll figure this out. Mom said there were fairies in the preserve. Although I’m not sure why it was in the house.”

“Figure what out?” Stiles pulls an arrow out of his forearm and sets it on the table where the Cupid had been recovering. “Look at that, it’s like a fucking inch long.” He plucks out another and says, “Still hurts. I think I got all of them. He got me four times, the little shit. Did he get you, Ally?”

“No, I guess I’m lucky. Or he was just really pissed at you two.” She takes a step back from Scott and firmly says, “I’m fine, Scott. You should check on Stiles and Peter. They both got a lot of hits.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Peter says, trying to look around Derek, who keeps stepping in front of him. “What are you doing, I want to be sure Stiles is okay. He was just talking about getting hit by four arrows.”

“They’re just little baby arrows, Peter, I’m fine.” Stiles shoulders Derek out of the way and checks Peter’s arms, mumbling while he pulls six more arrows out of Peter’s arm and shoulders. “Crazy assed things in this town, an actual Cupid, who would have expected that?” He looks at the arrows, more darts than anything, sitting on the table and pushes them together. “Wonder if there’s anything I can do with these? Maybe sell them to someone?”

“Wait, sell them? They’re arrows from Cupid, like the flying Valentine’s Day guy?” Scott looks around the room, eyes flashing red. “Peter and Stiles were both hit, so that means…” He also tries to get between them, holding out his hand to try to cover Stiles’ eyes. “We can get you to Deaton and he can figure something out, I’m sure he can.”

Stiles bats at his friend’s hands, attempting to get around him and back to Peter’s side. “Why do people still think Deaton can or will do anything? And why are you trying to cover my eyes?”

“You said that thing was Cupid and it shot both of you full of arrows,” Allison says. “So is it like the legends or myths or whatever? You both got hit by his arrows and don’t seem any worse for the wear.”

They grin at each other and shrug. “I think we’re both fine,” Stiles replies. “I didn’t realize that was a concern and glad you didn’t get hit, too. Apparently, he wasn’t mad at the attacker, just the rescuers.”

“Good to know there’s finally something _not_ to worry about!” Scott chuckles, giving Stiles’ shoulder a gentle screen. “But really, I didn’t think the whole thing about getting shot by Cupid’s arrow and falling for the first person you saw stuff was real. That’s just _too_ crazy, even for here.”

“It’s real,” Derek replies, shaking his head at his uncle. “It’s creepy as hell, if you ask me, but it’s nothing I want details about.” He sniffs a little, wrinkling his nose. “I already feel like I know way more than enough.”

“What do you mean? What’s real? What’s creepy?” Scott turns to Stiles, hurt look in big, brown eyes. “Stiles, what’s going on?”

“Scott, I thought you guys all have super sensitive smellers? Or maybe it’s just born wolves?” He turns to Peter, raising an eyebrow. “Just born wolves? But that’s not right, is it?”

“No, Scott is apparently oblivious, which I find hilarious.” Peter scents along the side of Stiles’ neck, then frowns and pulls his head back. “You have a strange smell, probably from your little fairie friend. You’re okay?” he asks, taking Stiles’ chin to look in his eyes. “No bad affects?”

“No, I’m good, wolf.” He nuzzles his chin against Peter’s hand before turning back to Scott. “We’re good, not sure why you’re here, but any questions? Ya figured it out yet?”

Scott looks back and forth again, appealing to Allison for help. “You both got hit by Cupid’s arrows but because you’re already…” His nose wrinkles and he whispers, “You’re already having sex. With Peter! Stiles, I mean, come on, with Peter?”

“Oh my god, Scott, I tried to tell you, but you never listen to me.” He looks at Peter and shrugs. “I mean, I figured you could smell me. Honestly, there were times that _I_ could smell Peter on me.”

“I thought it was from researching together! You know, you guys together researching with Peter’s old books and stuff and that’s why…” Scott sighs, having worn himself down. “So you’re doing it _and_ you’re in love? That’s why Cupid’s arrow didn’t do anything. Or anything extra?”

“Guess so,” Stiles shrugs again, turning to Peter with a grin. “And there’s not one Cupid, it’s a type of fairie and apparently there’s at least one in the preserve. Anyway, yeah, I know Peter loves me. And he’s been carrying around an engagement ring in his pocket for about two weeks now.”

Peter takes a step back, narrowing his eyes. “How would you know that?”

“I go through your pockets, of course. You know, doing the laundry, or whatever.”

“You don’t do my laundry,” Peter says. “You’re just a horrible person, and I’m so turned on right now.”

“Hey, are you going to propose? You should do it now.” Allison crosses her arms and grins. “No point in carrying around a ring he already knows about and besides, you can blame the Cupid. You’re welcome, Stiles.”

“I hate to agree with Princess Argent, but since it’s not a secret and you know – should I?” Peter’s grin is his public one, the one he uses for the pack. The one that took so many hours to drop off so Stiles could see his real, gentle smile underneath.

“Stiles, don’t.” Scott grabs his arm and pulls him back. “And no, not because it’s Peter or I don’t like it or understand it – although I don’t – but even I know not here, not like this. This isn’t the memory you want.”

Derek sighs and says, “I agree with Scott. You shouldn’t share this, even if you’re going to be assholes about it. You’re both okay, so leave and we’ll clean up here.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, they’re right. And I’m sorry about all of it, about…” Allison sighs and her smile trembles more than she’d like. She pulls Stiles into a hug, quickly, because she knows how wolves don’t like another’s scent on their mate.

“No one’s fault, Ally. Hey, Peter, let’s go. Apparently we have a lot to discuss.”

“Okay, this is better,” Stiles whispers when he can talk again. “I like this better than being proposed to with an audience in Dad’s kitchen.” He pushes the damp hair off Peter’s temple, wrapping his hand around the back of the wolf’s neck, certain that he’s wanted.

Peter doesn’t even flinch, tiling his head to rub his face against whatever part of Stiles’ hand he can get. “Yes, I think this is a better choice.” He moves forward, closing the last of the distance between them, and kisses Stiles softly. “So we’re not blaming it on flying fairies or anything else, correct? I asked you to marry me and you said yes.”

“Dunno, ask me again.”

“Stiles, you’re smart and beautiful and lethal. Will you marry me so we can bury bodies together forever?”

Stiles rolls them over so he can hold up his hand and look at the diamonds on his wedding bind shine in the sun. “Yes, my wolf, yes. And I will always, with or without Cupid and no matter what anyone thinks. We’re getting married.”


End file.
